An Understanding
by Celeste Belle
Summary: As eighth years, Harry and Draco are forced to share a common room. Nightmares, pain, and late-night conversations might just allow them to finally understand each other.


A/N: I was watching The Voice when a participant did Evanescence song Bring Me to Life. The words haunted me, and demanded that I write until I sat down at my computer. Then, it wrote itself. Literally. It no longer has anything to do with the song that inspired it. It took months to finish. This story took off and I couldn't stop it. I looked at it when I finished and went "What have I done?" not only because I seem to have written mild Drarry when I swore I never would, but also because…I'm not sure what this is. Really. I don't know what I've done. Please let me know if you think it's decent. No hate please.

Slight AU, as Draco turned sides during the final battle.

An Understanding

Draco sobbed as he writhed in agony. Though it had been more than a month, he could still feel the effects of the Cruciatus curse as though it had happened only minutes before. He tossed and turned for a while before deciding he would not be comfortable enough to sleep again. Standing cautiously, fighting off the wave of nausea that always hit on nights like this, he moved into the bathroom, splashing his face with water. Casting tempus, he determined it was just past two in the morning. Sighing wearily, he pulled his bathrobe off the hook and wrapped the fleecy warmth around him.

Padding softly out into the common room he shared with Harry Potter (someone had another bright idea for the eighth years to promote house unity by rooming with someone from another house) he moved to the kitchen, putting the kettle on for some tea. Leaning against the counter for support, he let the heat from the stove warm him a little. Just before the kettle whistled, he took it off the heat and began making his tea slowly, careful not to spill anything with his shaking hands. It was taking much longer than he would have liked, and he was worried the water would get cold. He took a breath, hoping he could perform the warming spell if that happened. Sometimes he shook so badly he couldn't do even the simplest spells. When he poured the water from the kettle, he was pleased to find it had cooled to just the perfect temperature. Finally ready to add the sugar, he lifted the spoon, and cursed when the sugar went everywhere except in his tea. After his fourth try, Draco was ready to cry. He'd never been able to drink tea without sugar; it just didn't taste right to him. He couldn't even make his tea correctly anymore!

Just when he was about to burst into tears again, a warm hand grasped his, a firm body standing in such a way as to prevent him from turning in shock. The hand gently guided Draco's, and together they put spoonfuls of sugar into the tea until Draco managed a strangled "That's enough." Once the sugar had dissolved, Draco picked up the warm cup in his hands, which were thankfully shaking less now. Turning to sit at their table, he offered Harry a tentative smile.

"Thanks."

Smiling back, Harry sat across from him, silently regarding Draco as he sipped his tea.

"I'm sorry I woke you."

"What?" Harry blinked in confusion.

Draco frowned at Harry, taking note of his comfortable red pajamas, and his sleep-tousled hair.

"I assumed I'd woken you by banging around the kitchen. I apologize."

Harry chuckled. The sound sent shivers down Draco's spine. "I was awake the minute I heard your door open. It's a habit I doubt I'll ever be able to break."

Draco nodded in understanding. Even the slightest noise could awaken him.

Harry took a deep breath, as though he was nervous. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I mean, he gets the kiss tomorrow."

Draco nodded. "I know."

Harry frowned at how casual Draco sounded. "Are you sure you don't want to see him? I'm sure I could work something out."

"I'm sure," Draco replied quickly.

"But, he's—"

"No, he's not. Potter—"

"Harry."

Draco paused, blinking in confusion before smiling softly. Of course they'd move past the use of last names. Potter—Harry had said they were friends now. Oh, how Draco wanted to believe that was true.

"Harry, then." Harry's smile was almost blinding in its intensity. Even his eyes lit up. Momentarily distracted, Draco almost forgot what they'd been talking about. "I don't want to see him."

"Draco," the use of his name was almost enough to cause him to forget again. "He is your father."

"He gave up that right when he Crucio'd me so hard I wound up in a coma for two months," Draco said spitefully.

Harry sighed. He understood that, but he couldn't help but wonder if Draco would regret it if he didn't see Lucius one last time.

"Isn't there anything you'd like to say to him?"

"There are several things I'd like to say to him, Harry. But nothing I can say will make a difference. He brought this upon himself. He's done horrid things, and now he's paying the price. There's nothing anyone can do about it. It's his fault." His voice cracked on the last word, and Draco was mortified to find his eyes welling with tears. Bowing his head in an effort to keep them hidden, he didn't see Harry move around the table to kneel next to him.

Startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder, he jumped, relaxing only a little when he noticed Harry's concerned emerald eyes staring at his face.

"It'll be okay," Harry said, softly rubbing Draco's back. Though they'd been reluctant to trust one another when they'd first been assigned as roommates, eventually Harry found that Draco truly was changed, and wanted to leave the past behind them, it became easier to trust him, and treat him as a friend. "If you don't want to see him, no one will blame you. If you did want to see him, no one would blame you." When he noticed Draco's tears were abating, he summoned a damp cloth and proceeded to gently clean Draco's face.

When he was finished, Draco thanked him. Sniffling, he turned tired eyes to Harry, who placed an arm around Draco's shoulders and led him away from the cold tea and guided him to sit on the sofa. Harry situated himself beside Draco, close, but not too close.

After a few minutes of silence, Draco sighed softly. "I wasn't awake because I'm worried about tomorrow," Draco confessed.

"Why, then?" Harry's tone was gentle, soothing, as he turned to give Draco his full attention.

"Because…" Draco paused. He'd begun this conversation, but how should he proceed? How could he explain all that he saw, all he felt in his dreams? How could he explain the pain that kept him awake? Taking a breath, his eyes met Harry's, and he knew he was safe. He could explain it because Harry would understand the pain. "I can't sleep very well because of the pain."

Harry hummed in understanding. "You could take potions."

"I do. They don't help for very long. He hit me really hard, Harry."

Harry frowned, anger at Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort, and all those who'd given him support, coursing through him. No one their age should have to go through those horrors; no one should have to suffer the way they had. But they had suffered, and now it seemed their suffering would never end. The physical, emotional, and mental torment continued on, even after Voldemort's demise. Harry wondered sometimes if they'd truly won.

Harry came out of his musings to find Draco's head bowed, staring unblinkingly at his trembling hands. On impulse, Harry took Draco's hands in his, cradling them until the trembling stopped.

Draco's head shot up, moist eyes wide with surprise. Harry smiled gently, cupping Draco's cheek in his hand.

"You're not alone, Draco."

A tremulous sigh fell from Draco's lips as he leaned into the comfort of Harry's warm hand. Harry smiled slightly as his thumb softly rubbed Draco's cheek.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

Draco looked into Harry's eyes, unsure of how to dispel the confusion lurking in them. How could he explain? What could he say? _Thank you for saving my life? For helping me? For being here? For being my friend? For not pushing me about my father?_

"Just…thank you."

The words were inadequate, but Harry smiled, and Draco knew he'd understood. Harry heaved a deep sigh, and stood up, pulling Draco to stand in front of him. Cupping Draco's face in his hands, Harry leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. Leaning back just enough to look into Draco's eyes, Harry spoke softly, unwilling to break the moment.

"I'm always here if you need me. Day or night. I understand."

Tears shone in Draco's eyes, but did not fall. He swallowed reflexively and nodded. Before he could change his mind, Draco leaned forward and let his lips gently brush over Harry's.

"Good night, Harry."

"Good night, Draco."

As they retreated to their separate bedrooms, both felt a sense of calm that had evaded them since they were eleven. Neither was sure if the spell would be broken in the light of day, or if what they'd shared would be spoken of again, or even if it meant anything at all. They only knew that what transpired that night had finally led them to an understanding, and they had at last found the kind of camaraderie that could not be shaken. Even if no one else could understand their friendship, it wouldn't matter. They understood each other.

As Draco fell into bed, he smiled. He knew the possibility that Harry wouldn't want to talk about any of this was high. Even if tonight became but a dream, he knew that the memory would be enough to sustain them both. And the knowledge that he was not alone – that Harry understood - sent Draco into a peaceful slumber.

As Harry fell into bed, he smiled. He knew the possibility of Draco denying any of this had transpired was high, but somehow he knew it wouldn't matter. Even if they never spoke of it again, the memory would remain with both of them forever. And the knowledge that they had finally reached the understanding that they needed – that Draco knew he didn't have to be alone – sent Harry into a peaceful slumber.

A/N: Okay! Don't hit me! Wait. I categorized it as friendship because I think it can pass. If you want it to mean more, that's fine too.


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